


Heart-bitten

by Nicolefrickle



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Biting, Body Worship, Flirting, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:35:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22395652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nicolefrickle/pseuds/Nicolefrickle
Summary: Raihan catches Piers at a show, and one of the songs he sings sounds a little too familiar.
Relationships: Kibana | Raihan/Nezu | Piers
Comments: 37
Kudos: 282





	Heart-bitten

Raihan watches him from the back of the club, sipping a drink, nodding his head to the beat that Piers sets. He looks like a dream on stage, under the lights. Up there he becomes a whole other creature. His voice is raspy like he smokes, and loud like he isn't shy, and Raihan doesn't have to lean in to hear him for once. Piers' voice is in his ears and he's hypnotized by the sound of it—colors seem brighter and his drink stops stinging his throat. He'd forget to breathe if he wasn't taking them when Piers was.

It ends up taking two whole songs for Piers to finally meet his eyes.

It's easy to tell when it happens, Piers stumbles over himself and misses a word. The surprise on his face is evident even from this far away. He never expects Raihan to come watch him, does he? Silly thing. Piers doesn't have a clue what his music does to him.

Piers' voice comes back on the upbeat, and he makes a point not to look at Raihan until the song is over, like he's suddenly become the stubborn one between them. The grip on his microphone turns Piers' knuckles white, and sweat starts to drip off his nose, dot his forehead in little beads. Raihan always tells him to pull his bangs back, but Piers must like having something to hide behind. It isn't the heat that bothers him.

The song ends, and Piers visibly shrinks on stage even among all the hoots and hollers. They're even shouting for an encore when he climbs backstage to avoid them, anyone who adores him, _anything_ but attention. He's only a star when he's singing. Now he's just Piers by name; Raihan's quiet, modest Piers who doesn't know how much he's wanted, even when there's a whole room yelling his name.

Raihan downs the rest of his glass and pushes through the crowd, flashing the bouncer a smile that gets him through, easy. They know his face by now. Their little singer has a die-hard fan who's been trying to keep it together all night, and Raihan had been one song away from climbing on stage for a taste of him.

"Knock knock." Raihan leans his cheek against the dressing room door and listens in, not quite drunk enough to be this excited to see him. What has it been—two days? Maybe longer? Raihan is starving for him, he needs a three-course meal of his favorite delicacy.

_"Go away."_

But there's a hidden laugh that comes before and after, so Piers doesn't really mean it. Raihan slides his shoulder against the wood and knocks again with his other arm, "Can I have an autograph first?" he teases. Then after a moment his voice lowers and he tries again, sincere, ever-wanting. "You don't know how good you looked up there, Piers. I'm goin' crazy here."

There's a silence where Raihan can imagine the sight behind the door—the blush that came onto Piers' high cheekbones, and the way he tugged restlessly at the ends of his hair.

Then the door finally clicks and opens an inch. "Gimme a minute to cool down, those spotlights felt like hell."

Raihan smiles and pushes it open, only to shut the door behind him again. He gets the close-up of Piers that he was wishing for. It's right there—the blush he'd imagined is real on Piers' cheeks, from the heat, from Raihan teasing him. He'd sung his heart out on stage. It shows, there's nothing left of him but adrenaline and sweat and the look he gives Raihan from under his eyelashes, asking him what he'll do now.

Raihan steps too close and flashes his teeth again. "You didn't think I'd come?"

He's even prettier where Raihan can see him. His make-up is smeared, too, smudged underneath his eyes with thin, black lines where the sweat took his mascara on a ride. Messy is a compliment to him. While Raihan checks himself in his phone's reflection a dozen times a day, Piers isn't worried about being disheveled. He turns it into a look.

Or maybe he just knows how Raihan likes it.

"You're always busy," Piers replies, like he doesn't mind the shows that Raihan has missed. "Are you— are you drunk?"

Raihan chuckles. "If I was drunk, we wouldn't be talking right now. But I'm sober enough to give you that minute."

The blush from before comes back on Piers' cheeks even darker. He averts his eyes and tugs on his ponytail, bites his cheek. Irresistible. His neck is shiny with sweat and all Raihan wants is to drag his tongue across it, or get him out of that shirt with a lazy excuse to cool him off. He's wearing too many clothes. Raihan needs to take care of him—touch his hips. Kiss the hollow under his ribs.

But Raihan remembers what he wanted to say about the show. "Was that last song new?"

"It is," Piers swallows. "Does that mean it wasn't good?"

"I meant more about the lyrics." He waits for him to say something, but Piers knows where this is going already and he isn't giving Raihan an inch.

Raihan takes a breath and gets the lyrics straight in his head before repeating them out loud, leaning close to Piers' ear and singing it in a lowered octave, _"Wildfire, wildfire, from a dragon's tongue, won't your wings block the sun. Skyfall, skyfall, burn it all through the clouds, circle back, don't hold back, keep me choking."_

Piers shivers at the sound of Raihan's voice, even raw and untrained with all the cracks in the notes. His lie doesn't even sound convincing when he gives his excuse, "It's just nonsense."

"Is it?"

"You're projecting. Not everything's about you."

Raihan smiles and tips Piers' chin up before he can try to look away again. "Remind me of the title, then. I must've missed it."

Piers wiggles and smacks his palms on Raihan's chest to push him, but there's no getting away once Raihan has his sights on something he wants. Piers can't pretend like he didn't write a song for him, and then play it only because he thought Raihan wouldn't come tonight. What a shame it would've been not to hear it. Talking to Raihan through lyrics has a nice charm to it, any other time it's all hushed words and shy eyes, like Piers thinks he isn't good enough to be with him. As if Raihan doesn't lose his mind watching Piers on stage, breaking every nerve that holds him back when he isn't singing.

So Piers isn't winning this battle.

He takes a breath and leans into Raihan's hand, almost mumbling when he says the name of the song. _"Heart-bitten"_

The name evokes something so deep in his chest that Raihan can't take it anymore. He pulls Piers close and kisses him like he wanted to watching him on stage, when he couldn't get enough of that mouth, up there spilling secrets. _A dragon's tongue... keep me choking..._ God, he really couldn't help himself. Raihan gives him what he wrote about needing—the taste of his tongue and the tangy alcohol on it, pushing past Piers' lips before catching them with his teeth. His body is still so hot from the concert. Raihan slides his fingers against the sweat on his nape and then laces them into Piers' hair, threading them through until his ponytail falls apart and Raihan can tug on his hair like he means it.

Piers matches every kiss without taking his own. He's a doll while Raihan cups the back of his thighs and picks him up, setting him down on the dressing room counter and knocking over tubes of lipstick and make-up in the process. Piers laughs through a breath. "You're makin' a mess of things."

Raihan ignores the comment, keeping one hand on Piers's chest while he holds up a black tube that had fallen over. "You wore lipstick tonight?"

"Mm. It never lasts the whole show..." Piers replies, catching his breath. He's quickly tugging at Raihan's shirt in an attempt to get his attention back, but it doesn't work this time. Raihan has a new fixation. He wants him dressed up like he was on stage, made pretty for the crowd. He pops opens the lipstick and holds Piers' jaw tight.

"I wanna see you."

Piers' eyes widen but he doesn't say no to it. He lets Raihan do what he wants with him, just under a shadow of embarrassment. It's always been like this. Piers doesn't know how sweet he is until Raihan makes him taste himself.

 _Heart-bitten_ , Raihan thinks again, holding Piers steady and rolling the lipstick along his lips. He was irresistible already, but now it's just a crime. Black is his best color, too. Raihan would write his own song about it if he could, something that paints Piers as a big heart in hiding, a shy little thing that's afraid to look in the mirror, even in the dark.

Piers watches him work and shifts anxiously under him, but still doesn't object, even when Raihan smears his bottom lip with his thumb and presses a waning kiss to the finished product. He wouldn't want to waste his efforts so soon. Let Piers look too-pretty for a while longer; Raihan can always find other things to do with his mouth.

"Mm," Raihan bites his lip, taking him in. "I could post a picture of you lookin' like this."

Piers squeezes his hands together. "Don't-"

Raihan clicks his tongue. "Then maybe I could get that autograph?" He offers instead, leaning over Piers and tilting his head to the right, offering him his neck and the hint of collarbones underneath it. It only takes a second for Piers to give in. He curls his hand in Raihan's shirt and stamps a black-colored kiss on his throat.

"Thanks, superstar," Raihan mutters; suddenly, inexplicably filled with the need for more of that feeling. More Piers, more of his heat, his body, of how he tries to keep away but can't manage when it's Raihan asking. He sinks to the floor, between Piers' legs while he listens to his nervous breaths from above, wondering what Raihan will choose to do— _Wildfire, wildfire..._

Raihan nuzzles his cheek against Piers' bare leg, that smooth, shaven feeling. It drives him rabid. More, more Piers, swallow him whole if you have to. In an instant he's hooking his fingers underneath Piers' shorts and rolling them down, pulling his clunky boots off along with them. This time he doesn't ask. Piers wrote him a song, and it's Raihan's turn to give.

Piers grips the edge of the counter, exposed. "So is this why you came tonight?"

Raihan laughs. "Like I need an excuse to do this," he says, curling his hand around Piers' bony ankle and squeezing it. Skinny thing, with those mile-long legs and thin thighs. Raihan rubs his hand up and down them like it's worship. "It's your own fault for singin' about me, you got me all worked up. You know how I like attention."

And he gives the attention right back to him, dragging his tongue up Piers' calf, kissing his knee, and giving the other side the same treatment. Piers will deny compliments until he's hoarse, but he can't pretend when it's Raihan buried in his thighs—sweat and all. Nice legs and a body to kill for. Raihan almost can't breathe when he thinks about how Piers would look under him, especially dolled-up in that lipstick.

_"Rai."_

Raihan makes a noise deep in his throat. "Don't call me that, you'll fuckin' kill me."

"I hope not." Piers curls a hand in Raihan's dreadlocks while he tilts his head back against the mirror, melting on the counter, letting Raihan have his way. It's Piers' fault for being so soft. Has he always shaven his legs? It's hard to remember anything but how he looked on stage, alive, singing with the taste of lipstick on his tongue. It's his only home in the spotlight. They're celebrities on two different ends of the spectrum; Raihan soaks it up like an addiction, while Piers just rides the wave like he's barely hanging on.

"Rai," he mumbles again, crossing his ankles behind Raihan's neck. His voice is the same kind of raspy as when he sings. "Rai, Rai, _Rai..."_

"You want somethin' from me?" Raihan grabs his thighs and pulls him to the edge of the counter, flashing a smile. His pointy canines come out again— _Heart-bitten._ That nonsense word for a nonsense song, couldn't be about Raihan. Not a chance.

Piers makes an open noise from his chest and Raihan catches the look he makes, his wide eyes still streaked with shadow. The blackness caked on his lips. The more he pulls back, the harder Raihan wants to push him.

"Piers, I can't read your mind."

Piers swipes his tongue between his lips and seems to make some unknown decision. He reaches down, goading Raihan's mouth open until he can press his thumb against the sharp point of his canine. There's no fear of being bitten. He pushes it harder, hard enough to create a drop of blood around the point, and Raihan grabs his wrist and sucks it clean in apology.

He kisses the side of Piers' hand after. _"Heart-bitten,"_ he says, pushing again. "That mean somethin'?"

Piers looks like a criminal. "I dunno."

"I think you do."

So Raihan sinks his teeth into Piers' thigh to test his theory, while he shakes from the abruptness and whimpers it all out. Poor thing, always shy. Isn't this what he asked for? Raihan bites him on the other side, too, higher this time. He catches the meat of Piers' inner thigh and then balances out the pain with the sweetest kiss he's ever given.

"Rai," Piers winces, holding the dreads of Raihan's hair tighter. "It's gonna leave a mark."

He looks into Piers' eyes this time, watching the tears in the corner that refuse to fall. The sight of them evokes something predatory. Raihan purrs like his dragons. "It's my autograph," he says, serious as anything. His voice only gets lower. "You're so lucky, Piers."

Piers groans and Raihan takes it as encouragement. He signs another autograph on Piers' calf, the back of his knee, the ball of his hipbones. He's everywhere he can reach. He's in Piers' skin, with little fang-dots that well with blood but don't ever spill over. A swipe of his tongue is the only band-aid they need.

"You're so-" Piers' breath hitches. "So fuckin' _greedy,_ Rai."

"Maybe a little bit," Raihan traces just under the hem of his shirt. "You keep me humble."

"As if."

And suddenly Raihan is on his feet again, letting Piers' legs fall from his shoulders into his open palms where they close around Piers' thin ankles, hold him tight. Raihan watches him blink. He looks so needy that the slightest touch would break him in two.

"You wrote a song about me," Raihan says out loud, just to hear it for certain. The realization is enough to set his chest on fire— _heart-bitten_ —and an ashy blush creeps on his own cheeks, this time.

"Yeah, well." Piers gives him a wild, searching look in return. "If the shoe fits."

**Author's Note:**

> These two own my whole heart right now, I hope it comes across. hhhhhh


End file.
